


Energy to Observe

by creepy_shetan



Category: Whitechapel (TV)
Genre: Community: comment_fic, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-02-03 05:54:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1733528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creepy_shetan/pseuds/creepy_shetan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even when overloaded with work, Chandler can tell something's different about Kent today.</p><p>(Originally posted 2010/3/15 as a fill for a prompt.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Energy to Observe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sandrine Shaw (Sandrine)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandrine/gifts).



A soft knock on the open door. Chandler looked up to find Kent standing quite literally outside his office, his shoes just beyond the barely discernable boundary of the doorframe on the tiled floor.

“Sir, your lunch,” he said in his quiet sheepish way, holding up a paper bag as if his words weren’t enough to get the message across.

Or maybe Chandler had stared blankly at him for a second, thus prompting the need for the visual aid. He had been staring at lines of text (with the occasional gruesome murder scene photo) since seven that morning -- and if he were honest with himself, until three in the morning before that. He forced himself to get at least a couple hours of restless sleep in between, but he still came in to work a full hour before anyone else. He also hadn’t taken a break longer than five minutes, but then Chandler hadn’t even realized it was past noon. His contact with the team (or anyone, really) had been quite limited thus far today indeed.

He pulled himself out of the past and returned to the present, sighing as he rubbed his eyes and then looked back up at the DC.

“...Yes. Right. Thank you. Just put it anywhere you can,” he finally replied, motioning to the mess of papers and books spread across most of his desk.

Kent nodded, crossed the threshold, and set the bag down in the largest hole in the collage (the top right corner). He lingered for a moment, as if he wanted to say something else, but only shook his head slightly and turned to leave.

“Tea will be ready in a few minutes, too, sir.”

Then he was out the door.

Chandler felt as if there was something different about the younger man, but he couldn’t place it with his mind in a fog. He sighed again and cleared half his desktop before opening the bag.

When Kent returned not ten minutes later with a steaming mug in hand, Chandler was feeling much more alert now that he had eaten most of his sandwich and pasta salad. The two went through the same basic exchange as earlier (Kent just outside the office, only entering when told to set the tea down), but this time Chandler stopped him before he could make another quick getaway. Kent had not expected it, if the surprise at hearing his own name was any indication.

“A-Ah, sir?”

Chandler watched him closely as he stood and walked around the desk. Interestingly, as he drew nearer, Kent began to fidget slightly and then more noticeably when Chandler stopped directly in front of him. Kent tried to keep eye contact, but his gaze kept shifting between the DI and the doorway and the ground. Due to the office-wide theory that the boss had issues with personal space and physical contact, Kent almost took a step backward when he saw Chandler’s hands reach up to him...

...and straighten his tie. 

At first Kent was confused (the theory had reversed), but then he saw a slight smile on Chandler’s lips.

“Admirable half-Windsor, but you must be careful to not let the asymmetry become too obvious. You simply need practice.”

Kent’s neck and ears reddened a bit, and he gave a small smile of his own. 

“Yes, sir.”

Chandler continued to adjust the tie (but didn’t tighten it) as well as the collar as he spoke, “However, with this type of tie, I believe your usual four-in-hand knot is more than sufficient.”

Kent’s skin darkened another shade as he barely managed to repeat, “Yes, sir.”

He was having no trouble meeting Chandler’s eyes now; unfortunately, the DI was more focused on Kent’s attire than his face.

Chandler released him, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles and brushing off perceived dirt as if he habitually helped the younger man get dressed for work. He met Kent’s eyes again long enough to merely say, “Thanks for the tea,” before turning back to his desk.

By the time he had returned to his seat, the DC had vanished. Chandler lifted his mug and smiled slightly behind it as he watched Kent return to his own desk in the outer office. He had been right about a change and was glad he had noticed it even in his overworked state.

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt: Whitechapel, Chandler/Kent, tie  
> The theme: Free for all (none/any)  
> Originally posted [here](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/45363.html?thread=10319923#t10319923).  
> I only own the writing.


End file.
